


For the Tides

by verywhale



Category: Darkest Dungeon (Video Game)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Erotic Horror, F/M, Femdom, Fish People, Masturbation, Men Crying, Mind Control, Minor Character Death, Other, Power Bottom, Public Sex, Size Difference, Spectators, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:47:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24350776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verywhale/pseuds/verywhale
Summary: Bleeding out as they escape, they leave Dismas under the Siren's control.
Relationships: Siren/Highwayman (Darkest Dungeon)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 20





	For the Tides

What fools had they been, what absolute loons, for their skulls must’ve been too thick to run away before the disaster had struck. “Press forward,” they’d said, “We are the Flame!” they had exclaimed right before sinking into the gullet of the ocean, to be gnawed and drowned in these horrific depths.

Alhazred had been a smart man, and he’d known of these half-women, half-fishes—half-birds in some older tomes—believed to be mythical by now. He would’ve been the one to tell them to turn back into safety, if it hadn’t been his eyesocket to catch a bullet in it. But before that, all three of them—Baldwin, Paracelsus and poor Alhazred—had had their eyes gaping in terror when the monster had dragged Dismas onto her side. Or rather she had whispered something into his ears so he had slided behind her back by himself, which had left his friends in even deeper dread, hearts in their throats. From their perspective, it had been impossible to see what desperation could’ve got Dismas hooked. They’d heard her song, raspy and odious, veiled by something that must’ve been the remains of her younger voice before she had drowned. But even if she’d honeyed Dismas’ ears by a tune of illusion, he could’ve not missed out that massive maw with many rows of teeth and a bulbous piercing light above her head. And it had taken just one blink of an eye for him to fire his gun at their direction, before Paracelsus could’ve thrown one of her blinding bombs at him. And Alhazred had gasped and fell, most of his view turning black and pulsating and dislocated, bits of his allies’ screams still reaching him. And then the monster had sung into her conch, and the sound had been so blaring that it’d shaped itself into worms, long and sleek and appaling, with little sharp jaws nibbling at the insides of their ears. Alhazred had no longer been breathing, and Paracelsus’ hands had been all over her head, and all words Baldwin had thought of had dissolved in the waters, while Dismas had been yelling triumphantly.

Paracelsus had uselessly swung her knife at the octopus person, who had brought his mighty shield in front of his queen. Baldwin had the last look at Dismas’ black eyes, emptiness in them whirling; inane grin on his face just like a monstrous gullet. The siren had screamed again, the tune of her conch chilling and jamming their insides under the weight of the sea. Baldwin had breathed deeply, his knees still shaking, streaks of blood still running down his scarred skin, grabbed the limp body of Alhazred and pushed Paracelsus towards the tunnel. Exultant gurgles had resounded in their heads even back in the Hamlet, and among them had been the laughter of their once-friend.

What fools had they been, Dismas thought, seeing off their shuddering backs. Everything they had chanted before had been naught but a lie, a delusion to keep him away from his queen. Water was running over his cheeks but inside him was the fire, that burst even higher each time he looked at her. The tales of black depths of the sea had also been mere lies, as they stood around him crystal clear, tinted with soft coral and purple; perhaps from the rays of the sun above the ocean surface. And the horror they’d told to be hiding in caves beyond their reach turned out to be a lovely visage of a maiden, who these bubbling fishmen didn’t deserve to be their regina.

None of them did, neither the humans nor creatures from unreachable pits! She might’ve had fins like a fish; but they were gleaming charmingly when refracted in water, akin to her pearl necklaces and her hair, aerial like moonlight passing through the waves. Dismas had seen enough earthly women to know that none of them could compare to the queen of the sea. Did they have just an ounce of such elegance, such ethereal sway in their movements? They could adorn their fingers and necks with dozens of jewels, but her skin was itself like a cave full of treasures, each scale shimmering with shades unseen anywhere on land. And the voice she gifted to him, greeted him with in her kingdom; Dismas finally learned why the books hadn’t spared it any description other than “the most beautiful in the whole world”. Damn the poems, damn the books; Dismas would bare his heart and brain and everything she would ask him for just to hear her sing again.

A thud of the water gates echoed from the distance. The siren bowed to her servants and then turned towards the man who imagined himself to be her new lover. She saw his mouth morph into a shaking oval, his hands run all over his coat while he was gazing at her. She smiled at him kindly—or so it seemed to him behind the charm still wavering sweetly in his head. He dropped on his knees, his weapons abandoned, and there were tears of glee and desire turning his normally stout face into a mess of emotion.

She cupped his face, and her hands were as smooth as the surface at calm, undisturbed by shakes of the wind and slashing steps of the ships. She brought herself closer to him, staring deeply into his vapid eyes, and kissed him. It was all salt and mire and astrigent sea blood; but to him it was sweeter than a kiss of any woman from earth, with their suffocant smokes and perfumes and tastes of someone else’s wet flesh. If there was one thing to make him want to part their lips, it was a hopeless wish to hear her song once more; for he didn’t want it to dissipate from the depths of his skull anymore. Dismas found his palms on her breasts, every small scale but a pearl; and every inch of his body felt overfilled from realization of how much treasure he was holding in his hands. She moved away and he licked his lips, impatient to enclose them around her nipples. But instead she let out a howl which was like a wave crushing at him during the storm. His back and elbows touched the blue sands, and the shadow of his queen fell upon him; and shivers made him pant relentlessly, choke on tears and sweat and acuate ache right where she mounted him.

Dismas knew not how he would make love to her, with her legs brought together in a graceful tail; but he knew that he had been dying to become even closer to her, and listen to her chant in their mellow union. Her fingers were long and skinny, but not as fragile as the fins; and she tore apart his belt and dived them under his shirt. Her pressure numbed his bottom half, there was no more air in his lungs but the salt and the breeze of her body, and his face was red from the weight of his passion.

He dared to divert his blurry gaze from her and glance beneath. She moved aside that giant golden shell pendant, and he didn’t see anything special underneath it; but a second later she hurtled onto his cock, already slick and twitching from impatience. It felt as if a blade slashed his sensitive skin, right where a bullet had already landed; like his head being pushed in the sea while his mouth was still open, resulting in loads of water burning his lungs and salt scraping the walls of his stomach. Dismas didn’t hear his scream while she was whispering something in that loveliest voice of hers. He didn’t hear _what_ she was whispering, but her voice kept him afloat and let him breathe.

His eyes were everywhere on her, on these teal and coral and silver scales of hers, blinking and changing their colors while she was swaying on top of him. As he had thought his cheeks had already dried of tears, a new surge of them flowed and fell apart in the waters, becoming but bubbles whirling around them. The pressure was especially harsh around his cock, no matter how flushed and sleeky it was, and no matter how ecstatic he felt. His eyes itched so badly that he would gore them out; but he didn’t want to take them off his queen. With every push she made, his legs whined and he felt them bent in a way that could break his bones and stretch his ligaments. But even through pain he thought that he wouldn’t need these ugly growths anymore; and he even hoped that she knew of some magic that would grant him a tail like hers. Dismas would learn their dances and write hymns for his new brothers and sisters, but only if she sang them for him and joined him in the whirlwind.

His weak leg bones, poor little things; they creaked and screamed and made some scary scrunching sounds, but these were obscured by the noise clogging Dismas’ ears. There were so many tears in his eyes that he only saw a faint sillhouette of his love. She became a shimmering ghost, colored in pink and silver and gold; and around them was only a damp blue mess, squelching and babbling and laughing. Sometimes the bubbles were popping, and they were white and full like evil eyes; and a sick stench of fish was attacking his nose. His body was almost if in quicksands, and his head was in a vortex, and Dismas blinked many times till the tears dripped down and freed his vision.

While he was blinking, her dainty flesh under his hands had grown rough, and he found slime between his fingers and her hefty body. Each breast he was fondling was larger than both of his palms, and there were barnacles residing on them, just as on her shoulders and elbows. Dismas bent his neck and then lifted his head again to see his love clearly when she was no longer singing. Silky lips she had kissed him with weren’t there anymore, and none of these rows of mightly sharp teeth would fit in her mouth if it was really that soft and small as he had felt before. He recognized those golden locks he’d seen, but they weren’t flowing but just hanging damp from her misshapen head, swollen eyes full of blank gloss like an empty wine bottle.

Dismas jerked to the side, but the pain overtook his legs, crushed by the weight of the sea monster. She was aware of her charm being lost, but it didn’t matter when she had already had him at bay. The frictions inside her were as suffocating as if she mounted his face, and as burning as if that putrid slime of hers flowed down his throat. Dismas clenched his teeth involuntarily that his jaws moaned, and the cry trapped in his yet throbbing lungs came out just as a loud furious hiss.

He tried to push his fists against her, but she lifted her arm, and a keen fin-like thing cut across his face. He dropped his head to the side, sand biting into a fresh wound; and a blur he had seen besides them took a coherent shape. He no longer knew what brought him more misery—a load of a bloated half-woman half-fish, all in patches of sick blue and maroon and barnacles stuck to her scales; her painfully tight cunt enclosed around his cock, reeking and bleeding while she was bouncing; or a sight of a horde of fishmen, those with blades and harpoons, stroking their pricks and gurgling. And they were everywhere around, flapping their fins and jumping on their leg-like scaly things, gasping in their ugly hoarse voices while they drove themselves to the shared orgasm. And Dismas was lying helpless, his lower half already a mess, sand stuck to his reddened face, ears impaled by the growls of fishfolk like by spears. And the most mighty was the shriek of a siren, and her fetid drooling maw slamming open right in front of him.


End file.
